


Wanna Be Somebody to Someone

by ralsbecket



Series: Twink Tony Bingo [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (Steve's an oblivious awkward doof), (or so he thinks), Alternate Universe - College/University, Crush at First Sight, Dirty Thoughts, Engineer Tony Stark, Football Player Steve Rogers, Hopeful Ending, Howard Stark's Good Parenting, M/M, MIT Era, Masturbation, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Slash, Song: Someone to You (BANNERS), Twink Tony Stark, TwinkTonyEvent, unedited because we die as men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralsbecket/pseuds/ralsbecket
Summary: Twink Tony Bingo - N4: Sports AU, B5: Tony's botsTony Stark Flash Bingo (026) - 01: MIT Years (adopted square)-Steve Rogers thought that he was fairly observant. He had to be when he was on the field; it was the sole reason he was offered a full-ride scholarship to be a tight-end for Boston University’s football team. But he learned embarrassingly quickly that his one blind spot involved a lanky-limbed, spectacle-wearing, tousle-haired brunet.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Twink Tony Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893358
Comments: 16
Kudos: 134
Collections: POTS (18+) Twink Tony Bingo 2020, Stony*, Tony Stark Flash Bingo





	Wanna Be Somebody to Someone

**Author's Note:**

> “And if you feel like night is falling  
> I wanna be the one you're calling  
> 'Cause I believe that you could lead the way”  
> \- BANNERS, _Someone to You_
> 
> Title: Wanna Be Somebody to Someone  
> TSFB Card Number: 026  
> Square: 01 - MIT Years (adopted square)  
> Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark  
> Rating: M  
> Warnings: None  
> Summary: Steve Rogers thought that he was fairly observant. He had to be when he was on the field; it was the sole reason he was offered a full-ride scholarship to be a tight-end for Boston University’s football team. But he learned embarrassingly quickly that his one blind spot involved a lanky-limbed, spectacle-wearing, tousle-haired brunet.  
> For the [Tony Stark Bingo](https://tonystarkbingo.tumblr.com/)
> 
> A/N: For the POTS server 'Twink Tony Bingo' and also TSFB. Primarily filling for sporty!Steve with a cute little Dum-E thing, but this idea got so far away from me that it's not at all what I started with tbh.  
> 

Steve Rogers thought that he was fairly observant. He had to be when he was on the field; it was the sole reason he was offered a full-ride scholarship to be a tight-end for Boston University’s football team. But he learned embarrassingly quickly that his one blind spot involved a lanky-limbed, spectacle-wearing, tousle-haired brunet.

The first time Steve noticed him sitting up on the stands near where the other players’ girlfriends usually congregated, he’d assumed the brunet was there to support his own boyfriend during football practice, or something. It was the only logical reason why he’d be there, looking bored as hell as he skimmed through books he pulled out of his backpack. Steve hadn’t paid attention to him much those first few days, too focused on learning the team’s plays and listening to their coach, Howard Stark, yell at them all afternoon.

Throughout training for their pre-season, Steve would catch himself stealing glances at the nameless brunet on occasion. Without fail, the guy seemed to be in the bleachers every single Friday, before many players on the team had even arrived for practices. For weeks he remained a mystery to Steve, who didn’t know what to make of him. The brunet seemed to volley back and forth between watching the field closely or tinkering with (what Steve assumed to be) circuit boards on his lap.

It was after running their laps around the track near the end of training one day that Steve was called out for “ogling” in the cheerleaders’ direction. To Bucky Barnes’s credit, he couldn’t have known that the blond’s attention was focused solely on the cute brunet, who himself was fixated on the small robot-looking thing that he fiddled around with.

_Cute? Get a grip on yourself, Steve, jeez. You haven’t even spoken to the kid,_ he thought to himself, shaking his head as he faced his best friend.

Steve took a long pull from his water bottle, nodding in the direction of the stranger whose presence never left his mind. “Who _is_ that guy?” he inquired for the first time. “And why’s he always watching practice?”

Bucky pushed his sweaty bangs out of his face, turning to follow Steve’s gaze. He exhaled, “Who? Stark?”

“No, not our coach, dumbass. The kid with the glasses,” Steve clarified.

“That is who I’m talking about, _dumbass_ ,” Bucky shot back, shoving his shoulder playfully. He rolled his eyes, adding, “He’s the coach’s son.”

“I –” He stopped short, his head swiveling around as his eyes landed again on the figure sitting at the bleachers. Steve squinted a bit, observing the brunet’s features: thick brows, slender nose, square jaw. Now that he thought about it, the coach’s son looked like a fucking xerox copy of him, albeit a lot skinnier and with a thicker head of hair.

Dumbly, Steve muttered, “I didn’t know Coach had a son.”

Bucky looked at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, almost as if he’d grown two heads in the middle of their exchange. “Dude, where the hell have you _been_?”

Before Steve could defend himself – _I’ve been a tad bit more focused during practice, thank you very much_ – their coach was blowing his whistle and calling the rest of the team in for a huddle.

“Alright, boys, our first big scrimmage is next week,” Howard began just as Steve walked within earshot. Their coach took a dramatic pause while he looked every player in the eye. “Things have been solid on the field; you’ve got your legs under you again after the long break. I expect you all to make me proud!”

If the winning end score of 51-22 was indicative of anything, Steve was sure that the BU Terriers definitely made their coach proud with their scrimmage match. Proud enough that Howard invited the whole team out to one of the fancier burger joints after the game and paid for everything.

Their group was split into two large tables, and Steve found himself squeezed between Bucky and Thor, a Norwegian international student who did one hell of a job at blocking center with how absolutely _huge_ he was. The ones who occupied the other seats at the table were Howard, his son, and the team’s quarterback, Rhodey.

Steve learned many things over the course of the night: He learned that Howard had been coaching football since before any of them were even born. He learned that Thor loathed pickles on his burgers for some reason. Steve also learned that he knew _fuck all_ about anyone around him, because he wasn’t as observant as he once thought he was – but he wasn’t going to let Bucky know that, or else he would never hear the end of it.

He learned that Howard’s son, Tony, was probably the smartest person he’d ever met (with only being eighteen and already taking on a PhD across the Charles River at fucking _MIT_ of all places). He learned that Rhodey and Tony had been best friends ever since meeting in one of their cross-campus engineering workshops, when a then-fifteen-year-old sophomore Tony Stark roasted their professor so hard that Rhodey choked on his protein shake and caught everyone within a three-foot radius in the splash zone.

“Pierce looked like he was going to _wring you out_ ,” Rhodey chuckled, reminiscing on the memory.

Tony gave a full-belly laugh, a sound so contagious that Steve caught himself smiling too. “But don’t you remember that girl sitting in front of you? God, the _daggers_ she shot with her eyes. The back of her shirt looked like a Pollock painting.”

“Of the Jackson variety?” Steve cut in, interest piquing at the little anecdote. He didn’t get to talking about his History in Art & Architecture major with his football buddies much (he wasn’t even sure if anyone knew apart from Bucky), but Steve was never one to pass on a chance to –

“Yeah, stupid splatters and everything,” Tony responded briskly, without missing a beat.

Steve’s face pinched together. “Hey now, Pollocks aren’t ‘stupid’.”

Bucky beside him sighed dramatically, “Oh, here we go…”

“They’re abstract masterpieces –”

“Sure,” Tony said, leaning forward on his forearms, “masterpieces that look like some guy’s just finished fucking into his –”

“ _Anthony!_ ” Howard reprimanded him with a deep frown on his face. He ran a hand over his face in exasperation, eyes falling shut in defeat. “Not at the table, Jesus _Christ_.”

Tony sported a wry smile as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, apologizing, “Sorry, Pops.” His eyes flickered to meet Steve’s, shining with amusement.

In turn, Steve sat dumbstruck for a moment, forgetting the gist of their conversation and feeling butterflies fluttering erratically in his gut. He realized, in _that_ precise moment, that Tony must’ve had the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever seen.

Steve couldn’t sleep that night, no matter what he tried. Maybe he could blame it on the post-game jitters, but his thoughts just kept circling back to bright, brown eyes and that carefree smile. And his _laugh_ , oh his laugh. Steve wanted to drown himself in that sound forever.

The shameless attraction Steve felt earlier had hit him like a _bus_. Did he mean to fall head-first into an intense crush? Hell no. But then again, it’s not like Steve could’ve _known_ that Tony Stark would begin checking off all of his boxes from the moment he laid his stupidly adorable doe eyes on him.

He couldn’t stop staring at Tony’s mouth the entire night – especially not after the juice from the fresh burger had started running down his hand, and Tony had licked up his wrist and sucked his fingers clean. _Whipped, I am so whipped_ , Steve sighed internally.

An almost electric buzz ran under his skin as it rewound in his head. Steve ignored the throbbing ache between his legs as he shifted uncomfortably in his bed, trying to will his mind to shut off and just _stop thinking about Tony’s sinful lips for two goddamn seconds_.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.

Steve licked a wet stripe up his palm before shoving his hand into his sweats, running the pads of his fingers along the underside of his cock. His breath caught in his throat as he rubbed at the head, feeling beads of warm pre-cum on is skin. Steve worked himself fast and hard and _fuck_ , he was already wound up so tight that he wasn’t going to last long.

His orgasm built up gradually, tingling at the base of his spine. Steve was on the edge of pleasure-pain with each flick of his wrist, his hips jerking forward as he went. His mind flashed the image of Tony; of how his lips might bruise skin mouthing along Steve’s pulse, of how his hands would look getting Steve off, of how he’d feel under him –

Steve arched off the mattress as he peaked, breath coming in short gasps as his head swam with the pleasure. The feeling continued to roll through him in waves, washing over him so intensely that he started seeing stars. Attempting to level his breathing, Steve’s chest heaved, limbs feeling like jelly and body feeling as if it could just melt into the mattress.

_Tony Stark is going to be the death of me_.

Contrary to popular belief, jocks cared about their grades too. (Well, _most_ of the team did, anyway.) When exam week came around, Rhodey started taking Steve and Bucky with him to Tony’s apartment for their study group. Steve needed help on his math assignments because the numbers never made sense unless someone else walked him through it. That ‘someone else’ used to be Rhodey, until he got too frustrated with having to dumb things down for him.

Fortunately enough, Tony took over with being his tutor. He was patient and explained himself well, and the absolute _pride_ that wafted off of him whenever Steve understood the concepts was infectious.

“See? You got it!” Tony exclaimed, knocking his knees with Steve’s and almost bouncing beside him on the couch. “You don’t need me at all, Stevie.”

Steve’s face flushed hot at the given nickname, and he felt it creep down under his collar. He excused himself after that, forcing himself to keep a normal-enough pace even though he wanted to _run_ into the bathroom. In the mirror, he noticed just how much of a mess he looked. _Jesus, Steve, calm yourself down_. He ran the tap, splashing himself with water.

When he stepped out into the hallway, Steve noticed robotic beeping from the far door to his left. He stood there for all of two seconds – _oh, I shouldn’t – but I’m gonna_ – and gingerly poked the door open with the toe of his shoe.

Tony’s room was chaotic but organized at the same time. Organized chaos. It was fitting. There were pieces of tech everywhere, books stacked next to his bed, and tons of records displayed on his shelves. It was the exact kind of thing that Steve had expected from the genius.

Steve got startled by a bump at his elbow, which was followed by a low and curious _beep boop_. The robot rolled back slightly, and Steve watched its arm raise up and down, its claw hand open and close.

“Ah. I see you’ve met Dum-E.” Tony was standing just past the threshold of the bedroom Steve should definitely not be in.

“Um. Sorry. I – the door was open.”

Dum-E’s claw spun as it chirped, and Tony looked at the robot as if he could understand it. “He’s calling you out on your bullshit, but I think he likes you,” he said playfully, chuckling a little. A private smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his eyes shone gleefully as he looked at Steve.

Steve ran a sheepish hand through his hair, smiling guiltily at having been caught. Ignoring the heavy thumping of his heart, he looked between Tony and the robot and prodded, “You built him?”

“Sure did. Two years ago next month, actually. He’s still a little rough around the –” Tony was interrupted by Dum-E emitting low staccato beeps, its extended arm almost shrinking down. He scoffed, “Oh, stop it. You know I didn’t mean it when I threatened to donate you to a city college.”

Dum-E rolled back and forth, twisting slightly on its stand to poke Steve in the side before beeping again. Steve’s smile appeared slowly as he watched in awe of the clearly intelligent thing that Tony had created; he wasn’t sure what possessed him to reach out for Dum-E’s claw and give it an awkward shake.

“Hi, Dum-E. I’m Steve.”

Steve tripped. He fucking _tripped_. He couldn’t even play it off like someone had tackled him when he was waiting for the pass, because he had been wide open. It only took one miscalculated glance at the bleachers, one enthusiastic wave from a wide-grinning Tony, and he was eating dirt before he could get out a sharp _oh, shit_.

Howard’s whistle pierced the air as he blew into it, and Steve could almost hear the mix of shock and disappointment in his voice. The coach barked out, “Rogers! What the hell was that?!”

He could feel his face heat up from embarrassment. Steve shifted on the grass and lay on his back, groaning to himself, “Just let me die, please, God.”

“No such luck, big guy,” Bucky teased as he approached, reaching out a hand to haul Steve to his feet. He tapped the side of Steve’s helmet. “If you’re dead, who’d be left to drool over that nerdy Stark kid?”

“Oh fuck off,” Steve said half-heartedly, knocking his shoulder against Bucky’s as they returned to their starting positions.

He caught Tony’s eye again when he looked back to the bleachers, while Rhodey started calling plays that went in one ear and out the other. Tony waved once more, his shoulders shaking as if he’d let out another laugh. Steve’s heart yearned to hear it again. 

Steve Rogers was not as observant as he once thought himself to be. He held his own pretty well out on the football field but maneuvering around Tony Stark was an entirely different ball game. Nonetheless, he arrived early to practice the following week with his heart in his throat and a small dessert box in his hands.

He found Tony in his usual spot in the stands, with his nose buried in one of his heavy-looking engineering textbooks. The brunet looked up as Steve approached noisily, his feet falling heavy against the bleachers. Tony adjusted his glasses, greeting the blond with a cheerful smile.

“Hey!” His eyes zeroed in on the box gripped tightly in Steve’s hands. Curiously, Tony asked, “What do you got there?”

“It’s a, uh, birthday cupcake,” Steve managed. He held it out to Tony who took it with an indecipherable expression painting his features.

Tony blinked once, twice, staring through the clear top of the box at the pastry. He opened his mouth, slowly revealing, “My… my birthday’s not until next semester.”

“Oh – yeah, no, I know – I got it for Dum-E’s birthday.”

Tony’s eyes widened slightly at that.

“You-you mentioned it a couple weeks ago,” Steve began to explain, “and I thought it would be cool to commemorate it, y’know?”

"...you really remembered that?" Regarding Steve with an awestruck expression, Tony seemed like he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “You sure are something else, Steve Rogers.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Not that anyone cares, but 100% of the reason I kept Tony's MIT years canon is because BU's football team was apparently dissolved in '97 (oops) and I needed the university's proximity to MIT for the plot LMAO
> 
> Not entirely sure if I like how this turned out but please let me know what y'all think!! Comments and kudos give me life ;A;
> 
> [Check out my linktree for tumblr, discord, and other socials!](https://linktr.ee/ralsbecket)


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